


Safe In Your Arms.

by CreamcheeseBagel



Series: We languish in the confines of our minds. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Good Draco Malfoy, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Hurt Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-06-29 19:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamcheeseBagel/pseuds/CreamcheeseBagel
Summary: It's the Grave Yard shift at St Mungo's, and with the anti-social hours comes violent patients.But when Draco's violently attacked-spiked with his own sleeping concoction, Harry has to play hero..and he can't just leave Draco alone in this state.Draco cares too much. Harry cares too much. But what's better than hugs you can sink into?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed reading your comments for the previous works in the series. Ah, I hope you all understand that our favourite ball of rage, Harry, is still working towards a friendship with Draco. Forgiveness needs to be earned!
> 
> Maybe you'll enjoy Harry more here, I mean they have been working together for a few months now. Oh, and you'll be rewarded with some goddamn good cuddling for your troubles...
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Draco inhaled shakily, his eyes closed heavily. _Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this_. He slowly blinked his eyes open, fighting the gentle lull. He stood alone in his office, collapsed against his desk, deep grooves beneath his eyes a testament to his twelve hour shift. He smirked into his tea, how fitting that he fought to stay awake as he helped his patients to sleep peacefully, chased away the demons keeping them awake as he himself strove to stay occupied.

He knocked back the last of the scorching tea, wincing as the heat hit his chest, and tossed the polystyrene cup into the bin across the room. Two more hours and he could traipse home and curl beneath the duvet. But right now he had to meet Mrs Bradding in her latest patient’s room; the shambling Wizard had demanded her attention, barking behind a beard that she was to see him first. So the tired woman had relented, and silently begged Draco with imploring eyes to help.  
The man had arrived around three in the morning, bouncing off the walls with wild eyes and bloodied knuckles. Staff on the lower floors was thin at the best of the times, greedily kept away by patients, and as it often was, it fell to the attending staff of the upper floors to mop up the dregs of the Wizarding society in the early hours.

Breathing out, Draco strode from his office, biting down on a yawn he couldn’t afford. He stowed his wand into his waistband and made his way into the airy waiting room. Melissa slunk towards him, smiling out of a very tired face. She had also been drafted in for overtime, helping those her department would not touch during the days, but they all had enough of the basic training to clean wounds and bind disfigured limbs.

‘They’re in Room 46, private room,’ she huffed, patting Draco’s arm as she bled round a corner and vanished. Draco went in the opposite direction and strode through two winding corridors until he had the even numbers he needed.

’46, here we go,’ Draco said, the bright yellow walls of the hallway too bright for his tired eyes. Four doors down, he promised he’d be in and out and opened the door with the ghost of a greeting on his lips.

Draco stood still in the doorway, his stomach turned to ice, his mind blank. Mrs Bradding’s glossy eyes stared wide eyed up at him from the floor, the whites of the eyes webbed with blown veins. The old Wizard from before had her chest clamped between his thighs. His spotted hands curled around a silver tray, bringing it down against her skull, pulling it back with a wet slurp and slamming it down repeatedly. Mrs Bradding’s lips parted in a muted sigh, her tongue peeking against the swollen flesh.  
Draco stepped into the room on legs he couldn’t feel. The Wizard’s face turned upwards, his grooved cheeks flecked with the woman’s blood, and his face split into a grin. He bounced backwards onto his heels, dragging Mrs Bradding to his chest as he rose, as though the pair were hugging before he tossed her body away from him. Mrs Bradding fell backwards, the crack of her skull suffocating Draco. He watched her body slide into the corner, her legs kicking out and striking a small cabinet that burst open with the impact. Vials, beakers, glassware, the whole damn contents of the cabinet lurched outwards littering the tiles.

‘I. Hate. Woman,’ the man announced, standing hunched, smiling into Draco’s naked fear. ‘Dead nurse. Downstairs. Ha, brains!’

Draco stepped forwards, his mind befuddled. He breathed in the rancid stench of copper, of his friend’s imminent death and followed the scent.

A small part of his mind wickedly told him that this wasn’t uncommon. Staff were often attacked, physically and verbally. Angry, bitter people. Entitled and animalistic. But Mrs Bradding could deal with the dregs, couldn’t she? She would talk them down, open them up. They weren’t supposed to pull open her head, spill her out upon the floor she walked every day.

The door swung shut behind Draco, clicking ominously, locked. The Wizard limped towards him and Draco didn’t even see his pale fist crunch into the man’s nose before hands with too much strength pulled him into an ugly embrace. The Wizard sneered through the gushing blood, spitting it as he laughed in Draco’s face.

‘Expelliarmus!’ and with a hot breath, the wand Draco hadn’t even realised he had taken into his hand left his palm. The wood clattered somewhere in the room.

‘No,’ Draco finally gasped as his ankle was yanked from beneath him with a quick Levicorpus. The childish spell snagged him, he smacked his back into the floor as he was hoisted upside down in the air. Blood rushed to his head and he awoke from the nightmare. ‘Stop!’ he shouted, his lanyard bouncing off his forehead.

‘Okay!’

Draco sucked in a breath when he collided with the floor. He groaned against the humiliation, dazed as old bones climbed up his torso.

‘They’ll say you overdosed,’ the Wizard snarled, his twisted mouth panting heavily against Draco’s cheek, he watched the cracked lips shut and close around yellowed teeth. ‘Interrupted me. Me!’  
He sobbed behind his clamped jaw. Gnarled fingers ripped the cork from a bright orange bottle and upended the bottle. The liquid slapped against Draco’s face, filling his nostrils and running off his face. He bucked, squashed beneath the wild patient, refusing to open his mouth as he spluttered the orange liquid from his nostrils.  
‘Open. Your. Mouth,’ the Wizard demanded, ramming his fingers beneath Draco’s jawline, pushing the pointed digits until Draco’s mouth fell open with a cry.  
More hot liquid filled Draco’s mouth and he gagged as it hit the back of his throat, thrashing wildly. He slammed his head backwards and spat with all his might. His potion hit the attacker square in the face and the man fell backwards in shock. Draco slithered out of the hold, panting and trembling. The familiar taste of a specially brewed concoction of his like bile in his mouth. He skittered to the corner of the room, his hands pawing at the unconscious Mrs Bradding. A small bead of blood ran from an exposed ear and Draco screamed.

The overhead lights blew in a shower of glass and plastic. Mrs Bradding remained a crumpled mess, her hair congealed and sticking in a clump Draco dared not touch. He crouched over her body, grey eyes focused on the patient turned attacker, he trembled and coughed heavily.

‘I killed the bitch!’ The Wizard laughed gleefully, clapping his hands loudly in the sudden silence.

Draco stood slowly, uncurling his body and breathing deeply. The man continued to clap, limping towards the door. ‘I’ll kill them all. Dead. Yes. Dead’

‘Take-another step-and I will bring this hospital down on your head!’ Draco spoke, his body tensing as the old Wizard’s fingers curled around the door handle. They locked eyes as the door opened. The Wizard smirked maliciously and Draco moved like lightning, he sprang forwards, his robes flowing behind him, he pivoted on his heel and slammed his palm into the old man’s back. The Wizard crumpled through the open doorway, falling face first into the arms of Harry Potter.

Green eyes widened as Harry went tumbling backwards, the old man’s teeth sinking into his right arm, tearing into the flesh.

‘Potter,’ Draco breathed, sliding backwards against a wave of sudden magic. It pulsed and ebbed against him, nudging him backwards and into the safety of the upturned room. He pushed against the barrier, slamming his fist into the ripples. ‘Potter!’

‘D-Draco-‘

Draco spun around as Mrs Bradding croaked his name. He dropped to his knees, cradling the woman’s bruised hands. They clamped around his own, pulled him in. Mrs Bradding pulled herself into her colleague, her head resting upon Draco’s trousers, a sickening warmth saturating the fabric.

‘Don’t talk,’ Draco hissed, his throat raw with rising panic. With an arm curled around his mentor, his free hand fished into her robe pockets. He plucked her small twisted wand, swallowing his fear he pressed the tip to the worst of the matted hair. _‘T-Tergeo_ ’ he whispered and Mrs Bradding sighed contently, ‘ _Vulnera Saentur’_ he sung into the mess of her head, tears pricking his eyes as the retched sound of skin reknitting burned into his brain. She sunk further into his legs, her breathing steady, heavy. Draco dropped the wand quickly, closing his eyes to the memories the words conjured. He resisted the urge to scratch at his chest.  
Draco began to shudder again then. A stranger had just tried to kill him. Mrs Bradding lay in his lap waiting for Death to knock at her door, the magic weaving skin and bone. Draco was sick to his back teeth. How dare a delusional patient shamble into Mrs Bradding’s arms for aid and strike her down with those very fists she brought healing to?

Draco shrugged his stained medical robes from his shoulders and fashioned a pillow beneath his friends cracked skull, climbing to his feet when she settled into the fabric. He rolled his neck once, twice. Popped his shoulders. Shrugged off the fear and strode through the magical barrier. It popped and crackled around him, rushing past his seeking arms.

‘Get that _thing_ out of my fucking face, Potter’ Draco spat as soon as he had cleared the threshold and stood in the hallway alive with noise. He ground his teeth and ignored the squad of healers and security dog-piling on the Wizard before him. Harry jumped at the misdirected anger, his fingers squeezed around a bicep. ‘I’m going home before another lunatic tries to kill me, or my friends. My shift is over’.

‘Wait!’ Harry begged, snatching Draco’s wrist in a clammy hand. ‘Are you hurt? Malfoy, talk to me’

Draco flinched away, pulling his arm towards his chest. ‘How did you know?’

‘Melissa found an injured nurse downstairs-described the patient Mrs Bradding was seeing to-,’ Harry threw a disgusted look at the dishevelled man growling beneath the bodies atop him, his jaw clacking. ‘Lucky she’s so damn quick huh’.

Draco nodded slowly, the adrenaline he had barely felt now evaporating. ‘Everything happened so quickly,’ he mused, stepping away, ‘her head-‘ he shook his head, his eyes following colleagues from floors below now rushing into the room, shouting instructions.

‘Potter, I need to go home’.

Harry extended a crooked arm, ‘Let me take you home, Malfoy. You look like shit’. Draco arched an eyebrow, biting down on a sarcastic remark.

‘Accio wand,’ Draco sighed, catching the wand with a twirl of his slender fingers. He pointedly ignored the offered arm and bumped his shoulder against Harry’s, sagging slightly. ‘This should be enough contact’.

‘You’re going to let me?’

‘Just fucking take me home,’ Draco sniped, ‘we both know you know where I live,’ he carried on, blushing in the face of Harry’s full blown flush. The Gryffindor stuttered, nodded and pulled them into the vortex of sudden travel.

‘Ooh,’ Draco hiccupped, sliding his knees into the sheepskin rug, ‘I never can stay on my feet after _that’._ He shamelessly sunk further into the rug, kneading his hands into the soft pelt.  
Harry stood beside Draco, his eyes roaming around the open planned lounge he suddenly found himself in; his eyes drinking in the foliage dividing the room from the kitchen, the framed sketches upon the walls, a slipper kicked under the grey love seat filled with cushions. The flat felt stylishly homely, muted colours with splashes of colour here and there. Pots and pans stacked high in the sink.

‘Not quite The Manor, is it?’ Draco murmured from the carpet, now laying on his back with his eyes closed. ‘I can practically hear your brain going, ‘but where are the skulls?’’

Harry snorted loudly, his cheeks flushing for a second time. ‘It’s so-‘

‘If you say _Muggle_ I will shove my wand up your nose,’ groaned Draco, crossing his ankles. ‘You grew up with Muggles, surely you must realise that not everything is divided between us and them. Just because I live in a flat, doesn’t make it a _Muggle_ flat. Oh, I’m so tired I’m actually rambling...’

Harry yawned into his hand, the bite on his arm disinfected and forgotten for the moment. Since the men had called a truce, he had begun to see Draco in a more human light, realised that he too had little quirks he had come to know. As he glanced down at the man napping at his feet, Harry swallowed the word friend and gently kicked a loafer.

‘Oi, lazy. Go to bed at least’. Draco grumbled in response, throwing a hand over his face. ‘Come on, Draco. You’ll feel stupid waking up on the carpet’.

‘Not the first time,’ Draco slurred, ‘it’s the potion-‘

‘Potion? Malfoy, what did you drink?’

Draco huffed, peeling the hand from his face to crack open a single grey eye. ‘M’attacker made mm drink sleeping draught mhm,’ he yawned wide, inhaling heavily and wiggling himself into the pelt. ‘Had to get ommm can’t stay awake’.

Harry drew lines in the air, flicking the wordless spell dramatically. Draco jostled upwards, pillows and blankets rolling beneath him. He nestled into the abundance of sudden bedding and began to snore softly, a leg splayed around a long pillow, his arms bare and thrown wide.  
The men had still not quite seen eye to eye over the last few months, but they’d laughed occasionally and Harry decided that he couldn’t allow his colleague to accidentally die in his sleep at least. If the attacker had truly spiked Draco with a concoction he had brewed, then it wasn’t safe to leave him unmonitored Harry mused crawling in beside the man.  
He pulled a thin duvet over Draco and swaddled himself in a blanket, sending his robes away as an afterthought. Harry tucked himself into a foetal position, grateful he had worn a pair of tracksuit bottoms to his nightshift and not his usual jeans.

‘Sleep well, Draco,’ Harry whispered, staring hard at the faint outline of a plant pot until his eyes drifted shut. A cold hand snaked across his chest and Harry’s breath caught in his chest at the contact. Draco’s fingers curled into Harry’s shirt and tugged. He rolled with the motion, bumping his nose into the Draco's chest, his glasses crooked. His heart crashed in his chest, a second arm wrapped around Harry until he was cocooned between two toned arms. Harry breathed into the slow rising chest and screwed his eyes shut, begging his heart to calm down, he couldn’t just get up and leave now he told himself as he calmed his breathing.

‘Thanks,’ Draco exhaled, his breathe tickling Harry’s scar, and his washed out face now calm and content.

‘You’re welcome,’ Harry replied, failing to fight the small smile tugging at his lips. He closed his eyes to the comfort and curled his arms around Draco’s back, pulling the man closer and into his warmth. He exhaled slowly and matched his breathing to the slow sigh of Draco's, thankful he would sleep soundly tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry snuck around Draco’s flat feeling both scared and excited. He had been surprised at first to find out how small the flat really was, having only the open plan lounge and kitchen, a bedroom and en-suite. There was also the locked door at the end of the small hallway beside the kitchen, but Harry had decided to check that out once he had had his fill in the bedroom.  
He pushed open the bedroom door with a sweaty palm, expecting to be disembowelled by a warding hex as soon he stepped into the room. However, the room was surprisingly plain, as though it could have been anyone’s room. A stark wrought iron bed frame dominated the middle of the room, the black metal creating thick twists at the headboard. Beside the bed was a small table, with a number of books crammed beneath, and a wardrobe beside the en-suite door.

Harry shuffled to the beside, his curiosity spiked at the silver picture frame face down on the bedside table. He picked the frame from its place, with the smallest urge to ruin it, and stared hard at the two men smiling up at him. The image frozen in time. Draco beamed up at Harry from the arms of another man, a wine glass balanced precariously in Draco’s slender fingers as the man behind wound around him, his face propped on Draco’s shoulder and winking playfully.

‘I would ask why you are in my unconscious friend’s bedroom, but I’m in no mood to play coy’.

Harry spun round quickly, his wand drawn.‘Pansy?’ he gasped, the silver frame he’d been inspecting fell to the carpet with a thud. He inwardly cringed.

‘Put it away, Potter’ Pansy hissed striding into the bedroom, wandless. She snatched the photo frame from the floor and tossed it on the bed without a second look, her upper lip curled. ‘You can leave now. I’m here.’

‘I’m the one who brought him home!’ Harry snapped back, slowly lowering his wand. Pansy raised a cynical brow and a flare of annoyance grew between them.

‘I was busy if you must know.’

Harry snorted, ‘I’m sure you were.’

‘This is not the first time Draco has been attacked, and it won’t be the last,’ Pansy stated, turning away with a huff. Harry followed the retreating figure. ‘He swallowed a potion, not a draught. He’ll wake in a day or so, a draught would see him out for a week or so. It really depends on how well or potent he had brewed the damn thing,’ she continued, striding comfortably through the lounge now, ignoring Draco’s sleeping form, his halo of tussled hair and small noises.  
Harry leaned against the kitchen bar as Pansy made quick work of making up two cups of black coffee. She dragged a large gulp before handing Harry the second mug, a small smile daring him to ask for a splash of milk. Harry inhaled the tiniest amount he could before pushing the mug onto the countertop and taking stock of the woman.

Pansy stared back from a strikingly angular face. Her childhood chubbiness had made way for a strong wide jaw, and confident expression. From her hard eyes to squished nose, she could almost be taken for intimidating had it not been for the small crow’s feet and the ghost of laughter lines.   
Harry knew very little about the woman stood before him, except for a few trickles of gossip he had heard here and there. Pansy Parkinson was said to own a very profitable bar in the back streets of Soho; an exquisitely decorated abode that served muggles in the front, and catered to the magical community, who would trickle in through a secret entrance, at the back. It had been said that the two worlds would never meet within the walls, no matter how tantalisingly close each party were. The staff were an eclectic mix of both worlds, from Squibs to Muggles, and even a Half-Elf.  
Aside from the business woman’s clever investment, Harry only knew that she was listed as Draco’s next of kin and had broken a man’s nose a few years ago.

‘I actually was busy, Potter,’ Pansy sighed, relaxing back against the stove and cradling her coffee. ‘I was at the bar helping my husband keep the peace’.

‘Husband?’ Harry found himself asking, leaning into the unexpected conversation.

‘Yes, Potter. I’m sure you believed that I would end up with Draco, didn’t you,’ she teased, a sweet smile gracing her face. ‘However, Draco has always been a brat. And my husband has the sweetest mouth, Elves are very poetic you know’.

Harry nodded dumbly, feeling lost. ‘So, you uh married an Elf?’

Pansy laughed hard, and Draco moaned in his sleep. ‘Half-Elf. And our children shall be beautiful creatures,’ she smiled over Harry’s shoulder, her eyes narrowing at Draco’s stirring. ‘He’s called Thaamir, and he’s wonderful with the Muggle customers. He’s very loyal though, a trait I admire in my men’.  
She pushed herself from the stove and wound around the small kitchen, tiptoed past the plants and squatted over Draco with a heavy sigh.

‘Are you going to get your lazy arse up anytime soon?’ she hissed, tossing her head over her shoulder to wink at Harry who gaped back as though this situation wasn’t as normal as the woman was making it out to be. ‘Draco,‘she continued, turning back to the bundle at her feet, ‘it’s time to get up’.

Harry shrank back and held himself against the stove, watching the pair across the room. Draco groaned and Pansy batted a pillow away from her face, her laugh sending chills down Harry’s spine. He suddenly felt like an intruder as Draco groggily sat up and crumpled into Pansy’s embrace.

‘I got the call late. I’m sorry, Dray, I was at the bar’ Pansy said, her voice soft.

‘S’fine,’ Draco slurred back, his voice scratchy. ‘Potter got me home safe. Is-?’

‘Your boss is fine, Dray,’ Pansy interrupted smoothing out Draco’s bedhead that refused to be tamed.

Harry slapped a hand to his mouth but the laugh came out as a snort. Draco craned his neck with a look of bewilderment. Harry raised his hand awkwardly and gave a wave.

‘Potter?’ Draco asked sleepy and dumbfounded. ‘Why-why are you in my kitchen? Pansy what is going on- wait! Potter- you helped me home!’ Draco rambled, kicking the blankets from his legs, batting Pansy’s prying hands, and clambering to his feet. He swayed groggily.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Harry nodded, scratching his face. ‘I stayed over as well, just to make sure you were going to be okay and everything’.

Draco nodded slowly. ‘I think that was the best I have ever slept’.

‘Not a habit to keep,’ Pansy teased, ‘Potter doesn’t need any more reason to save you. Or spoon you’.

‘What?’ Draco spat. Harry choked. Pansy smiled, pointing brazenly at the indent in the blankets beside where Draco had slept. ‘Oh,’ he whispered, rolling down his shirt sleeves and taking stock of his clothed self. Pansy threw the Slytherin a look that Harry couldn’t decipher before disappearing with the wave of her wand.

‘No fireplace,’ Draco explained, throwing himself onto the sofa with a tired sigh. ‘Look Potter, I’m sorry that you felt you had to help me, again’ he said rolling his neck.  
Harry squashed the nerves in his stomach and crossed the room to sit rigidly beside Draco.

‘Well, we’re not quite friends,’ Draco sunk into himself at the words, Harry flinched, ‘what I mean is. It’d be hard to go on to be friends if you died at work…’

‘So you selfishly saved me?’ Draco hummed, raising an eyebrow and mentally daring his guest to take the bait.

‘If protecting you is selfish, then I guess,’ Harry sighed, taking the bait and smirking. ‘I’m sure your damn spine has given me bruises aswell, but it was worth it’.

Draco flushed red. ‘I forgot how nice it was to sleep cuddled up to someone’.

‘Oh, are you not-uh, you know?’

Draco arched his brow higher. ‘Yes, Harry. I am single. I was with someone for a while, but alas I have to end up in the arms of Harry fucking Potter’. He shuffled around the sofa and threw his legs into Harry’s lap with a cheeky smile. ‘I’m still dog-tired though, so let’s discuss this when I’m awake. But, I’d appreciate if you were still here when I wake’.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat, and that was something he hadn’t experienced in years.

‘Trust you to demand I stay here and play footrest, Draco. If you snore though, I am gone’.

‘Mmh,’ Draco agreed sleepily, resting his head against the cushions. ‘I’ll cook you something, as a little thank you’. Harry relaxed and rested his hands on Draco’s knees.

‘I’ll cook,’ Harry offered but Draco had fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Smiling contently, Harry closed his eyes and told himself that he’d be the one to get up first and make breakfast, or dinner, what ever came first. The thought left him warm and content.


End file.
